Far From Home
by MizJoely
Summary: Lt. Molly Hooper and her landing party are swept up in an ion storm into a mirror!verse with a Terran Empire instead of a peaceful Federation. Who is her mysterious rescuer and what does he want with her? (Hint: Khanolly!)


**400 Followers Fic 4 – Far From Home**

_Anonymous said: Khanolly prompt: mirror!verse (does that count for one word?)_

_So this was supposed to be a ficlet but turned out to be a one shot instead. Enjoy!_

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><p>It wasn't her own world. There was no Federation, only a Terran Empire. It still made her blood run cold, to think of the path humanity had followed here. Her own world's past was far from perfect, but at least there they'd ultimately chosen enlightenment over cruelty, knowledge over power, peace over war.<p>

Not here. No in this world, where she'd been thrust by the vagaries of fate; her landing party had been in the process of beaming back to the science vessel on which Lieutenant Molly Hooper, Xenopathologist, had served when an ion storm had disrupted the transporter and landed her and the three others here. Now Anderson, the security guard, was dead, and Lestrade the geologist and Adler the volcanologist were screaming inside the agony booths to which they'd been dragged, while Molly waited in terror for it to be her turn.

No matter how much any of them insisted they were telling the truth, the imperial torturers didn't believe them. Molly had desperately tried to get them to just bring in a physicist to measure their individual quantum vibrations, since one theory of the multiverses was that they each vibrated on a unique frequency, but that request was refused, their captors seemingly more interested in torturing them than in actually learning the truth.

With a hoarse cry, Adler stiffened and then collapsed. Molly watched in horror as the indifferent guards joked about her inability to withstand pain, then dragged her from the clear plex-glass tube into which she'd been thrust, simply dropping her body to the floor to lie where it fell. Molly could see the blue tinge to the woman's lips, the glassy stare of her eyes, and realized that a second member of the landing party had died.

Just as Lestrade collapsed into unconsciousness and was dragged out of his tube, Molly heard the distant sounds of an explosion. She staggered as another blast, considerably closer, shifted the world around her, then cried out as Lestrade's empty tube exploded, sending plex-glass shards flying everywhere. The guards and inquisitors were focused on the attackers, giving Molly the opportunity to drag Lieutenant Lestrade to the questionable shelter of a metal table bolted to one wall. She crouched down next to him, wiping at the tears dripping from her eyes as she mourned the loss of another crewmate, and hoped that the two of them that remained would somehow make it out of this mess alive.

As the room filled with smoke and the sounds of fighting, that hoped dimmed to almost nothing. Then Molly heard a deep baritone calling out, "Where are the prisoners? We have to get them out of here, now, security is on its way!"

It could be a trap, a way to drive them into the open, but the voice wasn't one she recognized, although it certainly was one she could listen to for hours under better circumstances. Either way, there was no point in remaining where she was; there wasn't anything she could do to help Lestrade and eventually this evil version of Starfleet would round them up and throw them back into the tiny cell they'd been sharing for the past two days. Making up her mind, Molly crawled out from beneath the table but remained on her knees, keeping her head low where the smoke was thinner. "Over here," she called out, then fell into a coughing fit and covering her face with her hands in a vain effort to keep the worst of the smoke from her lungs.

A tall form strode through the smoke, then dropped gracefully to one knee in front of her. She caught a glimpse of a man's face through the plex-glass oxygen mask that shielded his face before another coughing fit overtook her. "Got them!" he shouted without removing his gaze from hers. He handed her a mask similar to his own; instead of putting it over her own face, she turned and placed it on Lestrade. The man gave her an approving smile, then called out again. "Beam us out of here, Watson, I've got them!"

**oOo**

Molly must have blacked out; she awoke with her head resting on someone's shoulder – or rather, someone's broad, muscular chest, she noted dazedly, then came abruptly awake as memory flooded over her. "Who are you?" she asked as she gazed up at the stranger's face.

Her rescuer – for it was, indeed, he, minus the filtering mask – smiled at her, a slow, wicked grin that sent a flash of heat directly between her legs, inappropriate though her reaction was considering she didn't know if he actually was a rescuer or instead just another kidnapper. "John Harrison," he said. "Formerly of the Imperial Starfleet, currently a commander of sorts in the resistance. Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Molly Hooper of the USS _Enterprise_."

"You…you know who I am? Who we are?" she asked, belatedly looking for Ensign Lestrade. They were in what looked very much like a starship medical bay; Lestrade was lying on a biobed while a man with graying ash-blond hair and a concerned expression that reminded her forcefully of the chief medical officer on the _Enterprise_ scanned him with a medical tricorder. She relaxed a bit, seeing her fellow exile being treated for his ailments, and turned her attention back to Commander Harrison.

"I know who you claim to be," Harrison corrected her, allowing her to sit up, although she was reluctant to pull her head away from the soothing warmth of his chest. Still, it wasn't exactly protocol to allow herself to be held in the arms of a potential enemy – or even an ally. She wasn't James "T for Tomcat" Kirk, after all, seducing people into doing what she wanted!

"What do you want with us?" Molly asked warily as she took in more details of the space they currently occupied. The lack of windows and subtle vibration told her they were no longer on Earth, but on a starship of some kind – a ship at warp had a very distinct feel to it that she could recognize in her sleep.

"To see if you'd be willing to help us in our fight against the Empire," Harrison replied bluntly. Molly stared at him; what the hell did he think two people – it should have been four, she thought bitterly, fighting down the urge to cry – from another universe could do to help his cause, no matter how worthy?

"We don't have any special powers or anything," she finally blurted out – and felt her face flush red as she belatedly realized that not only had her head been resting on Harrison's chest, but that she was actually sitting in his lap with his arms around her. She made to rise, but he tightened his grip, and she (mostly) unwillingly subsided.

"I know," he replied easily, a broad grin turning his features from 'arrestingly handsome' to 'spectacularly handsome and may I have your babies please'. "And if you'd prefer we try to find a way to send you both back to your own universe, I can have my brother's engineering crew see if they can work out a way to reverse the process that brought you here, although finding a convenient ion storm might be a bit problematic. I don't know about your universe, but here they're still very unpredictable."

Molly nodded, lowering her eyes and trying to _think_ instead of just running on adrenaline and fear, as she had been ever since regaining consciousness to find her world turned upside down. "I'm sorry about the deaths of your comrades," Harrison said softly, and her eyes flew up to meet his, surprised and flustered by the sincere empathy she heard in his voice. "I know what it's like to lose members of your crew, your family…"

"Khan, get over here, I'm losing him!" Molly was summarily lifted to her feet and watched in confusion as Harrison – why had the other man called him by that archaic title – rushed over to assist in life-saving actions. She was right behind him, wishing her medical training had more to do with the macrobiotic world rather than the microbiotic, gnawing at her lips and watching with bated breath to see if she would end up the sole survivor here.

No. She let out a relieved breath as she saw that Harrison and the other man – Watson, was it? – had managed to keep Lestrade alive. They fussed over him a bit, then he was given an injection and Harrison returned his attention to her. "Thank you," she said, clearing her throat and making sure to meet both men's eyes as she spoke. "Thank you for saving him. For saving us."

"Yeah, no problem," the other man said gruffly, his eyes softening a bit as he nodded at her. "Khan, you might want to take the lady to her quarters now that she knows her friend is all right, yeah? Let her take a shower and maybe get some clean clothes and maybe even something to eat?" He looked pointedly at the other man, then at her, then scowled and looked down at his patient. "Mary'll be back soon, so if I need any more help at least I'll have a trained nurse and not a…"

"Yes, fine, thank you, John, I'll take care of Lieutenant Hooper," Harrison interrupted hastily, leaving Molly to wonder exactly how Dr. Watson was going to describe the other man. Not a…what?

She asked that very question after Harrison brought her to a small mess hall – but only after she'd virtually inhaled the chicken sandwich and coffee he'd gotten for her. "And why does he call you 'Khan'?" she asked as well, figuring in for a penny, in for a pound.

He was very quiet for a long minute. Long enough that Molly thought that he wouldn't answer her, but then he looked up from where he'd been gazing at his folded hands, resting on the table, and met her eyes squarely. "Because that's actually my name," he admitted quietly. "Khan Noonien Singh." At her indrawn breath, he quirked an eyebrow and said sardonically, "I take it I exist in your universe as well, Lieutenant Hooper?"

"Call me Molly," she said automatically, her mind reeling as she took in the implications of the man sitting so calmly across from her. "And yes, yes, you do – that is, you did, back in the 21st century. But you vanished – you're not actually him, are you?" she interrupted herself to ask, eyes wide at the implications and wild theories flashing through her mind. "You didn't escape our universe and come here, did you?"

He shook his head, lips crooked in a small smile. "No, I was born in this one, Molly. Judging by your reaction, I'd guess that my history there is as…checkered…as it is here?"

"You were the leader of a group of genetically altered superhumans, Augments created by a pair of geneticists, Dr. Noonian Soong and Dr. Indira Singh, from whom you took your name," she replied, speaking slowly as she tried to remember more details from the Eugenics War-era history of Earth. "You ruled over a quarter of the planet, until the world was essentially ripped apart by a series of world wars that nearly ended in Earth's destruction. You vanished, like I said; no one knows what happened to you, but the most prevalent theory is that you were assassinated and your body destroyed."

He winced, then took a sip of his own coffee. "Yes, well, up until the vanishing point, my history and that of my counterpart sound very similar. Am I blamed for those wars in your universe as well?"

He sounded bitter, and Molly nodded cautiously. "Blamed for?" she prompted when he remained silent, his expression brooding as he gazed down into his coffee.

"My people were bred to rule, but above all we were bred to bring peace to planet that was already in the process of tearing itself apart," he finally answered in a low voice, still looking downward, although Molly suspected he was seeing the past rather than the cup into which he gazed. "We were betrayed; many of us were murdered, and no doubt the rest of us would have been as well if I hadn't foreseen just such a possibility and planned against it."

"You went into stasis?" Molly hazarded, pleased to see him look up at her in surprise. She grinned. "I know Augments were bred to live longer than normal humans, but I doubt you'd look this good if you'd spent the last three hundred years just living somewhere in obscurity!"

His answering smile was slow and rather sensuous, and she flushed as she realized what she'd just said could easily be mistaken for flirtation. When she opened her mouth to deny it, however, his grin deepened and he reached out, covering her hand with his own and shocking any ability to speak right out of her. "Very good, Molly. And that right there answers the question as to how you and Lieutenant Lestrade might be able to help us. We need clever people, people from outside the Empire, to help us find ways to bring them down more quickly. I'm not sure if a geologist will be of much use, granted, but a xenopathologist could certainly…"

"How do you know so much about us?" Molly demanded, not removing her hand from beneath his, much as she knew she ought to.

"Hacked into the files," he replied with a shrug. "My computer expert, Wiggins, can hack into just about any encrypted system the Empire can come up with. And yes, Molly, I am actually the leader of this rebellion, to answer your next question. Yes, my crew and I – seventy-three of us in all – went into cryosleep after leaving Earth on a sleeper ship in search of a new world to settle. Unfortunately for us we were found by an Imperial vessel and awoken to discover that our worst nightmares had come true. We escaped – long story, boring, ask John for details if you insist on hearing them – and allied ourselves with others who felt it was time for Earth to follow a less violent path. Does that answer your questions for now?"

Molly nodded, still trying to process the rapid pace at which he'd spewed out those facts – and the unbearable sadness in his eyes in spite of the affected boredom in his voice. "So why did you say your name was John Harrison?" she asked, zeroing in on the one anomalous part of his story. Which she tended to believe; why tell her who he was if he was trying to gain her cooperation, knowing that she might refuse?

His lips tightened in scowl before he answered. "Because that's the name I was given when I was awoken by the late Admiral Marcus of the ISS _Vengeance_," he bit out angrily. "He forced a new identity on me in a bid to overthrow the current Emperor and take his place on the throne. He used my family as hostages and forced me to aid him in his plans. Luckily there were members of the rebellion in his crew, and I was recruited into a much worthier cause. Which I am attempting to recruit you into joining as well. Do I have your cooperation, or should I, as I already offered, ask my engineering staff to find a way to send you and your companion home?"

Home. Molly ached for home, missed her friends and shipmates and the sanity of the world she'd been torn from. She knew Greg had a wife, even if they were currently estranged, and would undoubtedly urge her to take this offer. "I have to confer with Lt. Lestrade," she finally said, meeting John's – Khan's – gaze steadily. "If he wants to go home, will you send him?"

Khan's smile was unrestrained, lighting his eyes. Impulsively he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. Molly gasped in surprise, then felt her eyes fluttering shut as he cradled her head in his hands and deepened the kiss to something less grateful and far more erotic. His tongue slid along her lips, teasing them open, and met hers eagerly as she half-stood and leaned closer.

Why was she so drawn to him, knowing the monster he was supposed to have been in her own universe and had partially admitted to being in this one? Was it gratitude for his rescue, combined with raw sexual attraction? She didn't care, she decided as he pulled her across the table and into his arms, settling her on his lap as he had in Sickbay. She wound her arms around his neck and reveled in the warmth flooding over her body.

She would help him. She'd already decided, even without talking to Greg. She would stay, and help this man with his fight to overthrow the despotic Empire and maybe, with any luck, replacing it with something closer to the Federation she'd grown up in. And even if he was coldly using sex to try and manipulate her feelings, well, she didn't care, not right now, with his arms around her and his mouth on hers. She wanted him, had ever since she'd laid eyes on him, and if that made her shallow then so be it. She would take whatever he would give her, for as long as he was willing to give it to her. And in return, if all she received was the warmth of his body and the knowledge that she was helping this world find a better path, it would be well worth it.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Khan pulled out of the embrace, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "I'm not using you, Molly. Not manipulating you. I've wanted you ever since I saw your picture, read your profile and knew without a doubt that you weren't lying or making up an incredible story for some unknown reason, as the Imperial scientists insisted you were doing. Your entire group interested me, but you…you fascinated me. You still do. And no, I'm not just saying this because you've agreed to help." He brushed his fingers lightly against her cheeks, and she shivered. "I have been many things in my life, Molly Hooper, but I have never been and never will be a liar."

"I believe you," she said wonderingly, then leaned forward for another eager kiss.

Her life had changed in a fantastic and horrific manner; she'd been pulled out of her own universe and into this one, but now she had a challenge unlike anything she'd ever faced before.

The cause was worth it; the man, she sensed, doubly so.

And with that realization, she ceased cursing her fate and rushed to embrace it.


End file.
